


a good a place to fall as any

by seventyfivesheep



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, Sex Dreams, discussion of Freud, not technically underage but tagging it as such just in case, sexual content but nothing truly explicit, slight yusuke/akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 20:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventyfivesheep/pseuds/seventyfivesheep
Summary: Makoto has an interesting dream that raises more questions than it answers.





	a good a place to fall as any

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the 4th palace- takes place before the deadline.

It’s not until Futaba’s Palace that Makoto realizes what the others have been made to wear.

There was awareness of it in Kaneshiro’s bank, sure, but awareness is different, somehow. Besides, they had pushed through that Palace at breakneck speed and by the end, they could have all collapsed from exhaustion. Even without all of the fighting, they were constantly dodging security cameras, climbing shelves, and sneaking in vents. Overall, it was demanding, and required all of her attention, constantly.

Futaba’s is different. There are shadows, sure, but there is much more time spent solving puzzles, unlocking rooms, and other more menial tasks, most of which are headed up by Joker. There’s more time to think about things here.

Which is what leads her noticing their outfits in the first place. They are certainly… unique. Some more than others. Joker’s is probably the most appropriate, and clear cut, with curly toes on the boots fitting the jester theme. Mona’s is, well, plain, especially compared to the others. Skull’s ascot is a bit much, and Fox’s entire ensemble is just a clash of inspirations Makoto isn’t sure she understands, but can at least appreciate for it’s aesthetic values.

Panther’s outfit is something else entirely.

It’s skin tight, to say the least, and while it seems thick enough to protect her from most physical attacks, the latex material doesn’t leave much to the imagination. It accentuates every curve of her body, where it dips around her hips, the long boots highlighting her legs. The cleavage window is...unnecessary, but Makoto supposes it serves as a way to distract Shadows by tantalizing them with her bust. Or something.

The fact that it’s paired with a whip just puts it over the top. Subtly clearly isn’t the priority in the Metaverse, and neither is practicality, if the ridiculous amount of zippers on that outfit are actually functional. When would she even use all of those, when one would be enough? Makoto doesn’t know. She hasn’t even touched on the tail, mostly because analyzing that would mean Makoto would have to look at Ann’s rear end for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Not that Ann has a bad butt. Not that Makoto would know.

Overall, her outfit stands out. It fits the theme it’s going for, if the theme is Dominatrix Catwoman. It’s unclear what aspects of Ann’s personality that description matches with.

“Queen?” Fox’s voice pulls her back to the present. Nothing has changed- Joker is still running around trying to press switches to make the coffin lights fit the required pattern, while everyone else stands around, except Panther, who seems a bit fidgety and keeps shifting her weight from one heel to the other.

“Yes?”

“Is everything alright? You have been staring for some time now.”

Huh. “I- I have?”

“Yes. It seems you were concentrating on something.”

“Hm.” Is all she can say. Yusuke has the eyes of an artist- he sees small details and there’s no way she can fib her way out of this. That doesn’t mean she can’t try, though. “I guess my mind must have been elsewhere.”

“That would be my guess as well.” Fox says, and doesn’t elaborate.

* * *

  
She's somewhere she doesn't recognize- it's vaguely familiar, but the plush of the couch isn’t a distinct enough memory to identify.

It becomes less of a focus when Ann steps into the room, clad in her familiar thief wear. It's nothing out of the ordinary, but something seems...off.

“Makoto.” She says. Makoto doesn’t respond.

“Hey,” She takes steps closer, and now she’s immediately in front of Makoto. A hand runs down her cheek, intimacy obvious in the gesture, and the two of them are alone.

It’s hot- why is it so warm in this room? Where are they? These are questions that Makoto asks and then discards the second Ann’s lips are on hers and she slides onto Makoto’s lap- wait, _what_ -

It feels...it’s hard to tell how it feels other than it’s good, other than it starts stirring something in Makoto’s gut and all she wants is more, and that’s precisely when Ann breaks the kiss and leans back.

She’s still close, too close, and Makoto’s brain screams to touch her, or to push her off and go hide her embarrassment elsewhere, but there’s no way she’s leaving, not when Ann is on Makoto’s lap and running a hand across the gap in her own outfit, cresting the top of her cleavage.

“You’re staring…” She whispers, her voice dripping with intent, “Do you want to see more?”

And- oh, god- Ann’s hand hovers over one of the ridiculous zippers on her outfit, one that starts precariously above a breast, and Makoto half feels like she’s going to implode.

Ann shifts in her lap. It’s a small movement, surely can be explained away as just settling in but Makoto doubts that it’s not entirely intentional, not when she can feel Ann against her and she nearly forgot about the zipper thing when-

“I know you do- your eyes are telling me everything I need to know.” And Ann’s hand grabs the zipper, pulls it down and she’s not wearing a bra. Makoto’s subconscious screams at her to look away, to have even the slightest bit of shame, but she can’t.

It’s- she’s breathing heavily, but it’s just a breast, and it doesn’t look too unfamiliar from her own. _It’s just a breast_ , Makoto repeats in her head. Just a breast.

Ann’s breast. Immediately in front of her.

She hears Ann giggling and it dawns on her that she’s staring again and she wants to hide her face and possibly leave the country.

“God, you’re cute.” Ann says, wrapping her arms around Makoto’s neck and rolling her hips. It’s so much and Ann moans, the tone deeper than Makoto expects. She can’t move, she can’t do anything except try to catch her breath. The layers of cloth between them should dull the sensation but the tease of it, the thoughts it puts in her head are enough. It’s also impossible not to notice how the movement causes Ann’s breast to bounce, and Makoto squeezes her thighs together and it sets _something_ off-

“Makoto,” Ann starts, her voice practically a gasp with how breathy it is, “Touch me.”

And- and Makoto’s instinct is to freeze, but then Ann is taking her wrist and putting a palm to her exposed breast and it's so-

Soft, except for the nipple that's already hard under her touch. Ann whimpers, and Makoto- well, Ann initiated this, so that's her permission, right? Even if she wanted to ask, she can't seem to get the words out. Instead, she squeezes the breast under her hand.

Ann bends into her at that, and moans. Makoto feels skin against her thigh, and- wait, where did their clothes go?

It doesn't seem to matter once Ann’s hands are on her- she's fast, grabbing roughly at Makoto’s chest, her sides, her thighs- Ann’s touch is all over her, and she's on fire.

She wants- she needs more, and Ann is biting her neck and it's all too much- she can feel herself unfolding underneath her hands, the world narrowing to the pads of Ann’s fingers when they finally trail up and inside her thigh, hitting their mark.

Makoto nearly screams out- but Ann’s mouth is on hers in a flash, Ann’s hand moves against her, and there's nothing she wants more than to open up and take in everything, all that Ann has to offer and more. It's hard to figure out exactly what Ann is doing with her hand, but it's impossible to care about the details when it feels as good as it does.

She hears- something else, a voice immediately recognizable as Sae’s, and her face lights up in embarrassment when she looks to her left and sees that Sae is a room over, through a window she hadn’t noticed before. She isn’t facing them but the threat of her turning around at any moment is real and she’s right there and-

“Looks like we have company.” Ann says, not stopping her fingers, “You’ll just have to keep your voice down.” The last word leaves her lips and Makoto can’t help feeling dizzy.

Melting, melting, like Ann has summoned Carmen and is burning her alive. Ann’s mouth moves to her ear, and she's whispering something- Makoto can't make out the syllables over the sultriness but it's enough for her brain to white-out, for her to lose control as everything about her very existence seems to collapse around the tips of Ann’s fingers.

***  
Makoto awakes with a start, the room light with the morning sun, her own breaths coming as pants and an encompassing, uncomfortable warmth surrounding her.

The sounds of her life rush back to her at once, the hum of traffic outside, the whirl of their air conditioner. She hears, distantly, Sae’s voice from their kitchen- her conversation one-sided, and Makoto only registers it in fragments.

It takes a second for her to become fully cognizant- she runs a hand across her chest and sighs in relief when she finds that, yes, she's still clothed.

_Relax_ , her brain says, _Collect yourself_.

Remarkably, she's able to regain enough composure to get up and dressed before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. She catches Sae saying her goodbyes as she hangs up her phone.

“You're certainly up late.” She greets her, shifting her attention to her laptop and scrolling through an article.

“I-” Makoto can't say why, not when she doesn't understand it fully. “-I must have been exhausted last night.”

“I see.”

And then Sae turns to her, investigating, her eyes probing and Makoto feels exposed, dirty, like Sae knows even though that's-

“Are you feeling okay? Your face is quite red. And you're staring.”

Makoto shakes herself. _Focus_ , her brain yells, _focus focus focus_.

“I must just be half asleep still-I'm sorry.”

It's a total lie and she's sure Sae knows, but she just turns and sips her coffee. “Don't make that a habit. People will think you're rude.”

* * *

 

It doesn’t happen again the next night. It had never happened before, either, and Makoto’s half-convinced it was just a one off thing, meaningless in it’s symbolism. But it’s so eerie that she just can’t let it go, not without a proper investigation, at least.

Naturally, her first thought is the cognitive world- as though her own cognition is using her dreams to tell her that she has a Palace. Though it would imply that she sees Ann as some...seductress, it would at least explain everything else that happened in the dream.

It’s not the outcome she would want, given the rocky start to her and Ann’s friendship and the efforts they both exerted to overcome that. But it’s the most logical explanation, so it needs to be looked into.

She pulls her cell phone from her bag, and clicks on the MetaNav app. Quietly, she says, “Makoto Niijima”.

_Conditions have not been met_ , the phone dings back at her. She sighs. But there is one more chance-

“Ann Takamaki.”

_Conditions have not been met_ , the phone repeats.

She drops the phone onto the table. It’s surprisingly loud in the quiet of the student council room, but the break means the halls are empty, anyway, so it’s not a big deal.

_Well_ , she thinks to herself, _we both have Personas. Of course we wouldn’t have Palaces._

She remembers that being explained at one point, in the barrage of information she had to take in on her first trip into the cognitive world. If it’s not a Palace, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just a dream.

She pulls the balance book for club budgets towards her. There’s work to do, and her break time is officially over, she decides.

Science club: still within budget, expenses reported match expenses documented. Check.

Sewing club: slightly over budget, but expenses line up. She will have to discuss this with their president once break is over. She makes a note of it.

Gardening club: On budget, expenses match. Check.

_“Do you want to see more?”_

Cooking club: On budget, discrepancies between expenses. She marks it for discussion. Next.

_“I know you do- your eyes are telling me everything I need to know.”_

Idol appreciation club: On budget, expenses cleared. Check.

_“Makoto, touch me.”_

She slides the budgets away from her and rests her forehead against the table. The room feels warmer- maybe the air conditioning kicked off.  
  
If neither her nor Ann has a Palace, does that mean there’s someone else who does? They’re still dealing with Futaba’s… it would be problematic if another were to spring up out of nowhere.

Are dreams even connected to the cognitive world? It seems like something that could very easily be the case. But she doesn’t know, and that’s frustrating.

There’s only one thing she can do. She forces herself to sit up straight, and grabs her phone again.

**To: Akira 11:36 AM**  
Hello. Sorry to bother you, but I need to ask something.

**From: Akira: 11:41 AM**  
It’s no bother. Ask away.

**To: Akira 11:42 AM**  
Actually, it’s a question for Morgana. Is he around?

**From: Akira 11:45 AM**  
He doesn’t leave me alone, so yes. He says hello.

**To: Akira 11:45 AM**  
Hello, Morgana.  
**To: Akira 11:46 AM**  
Have you ever noticed a connection between dreams and the cognitive world? Or that distortions in the cognitive world impact dreams in reality?

**From: Akira 11:50 AM**  
He says no. Generally, distortions in Palaces and Mementos are happening on a subconscious level that people have no awareness of, whereas dreams, as he knows them, are unconscious thoughts made up of conscious experiences and knowledge.  
**From: Akira 11:50 AM**  
If that makes sense.  
**To: Akira 11:50 AM**  
It does.  
**To: Akira 11:51 AM**  
Honestly, I’m not sure why I couldn’t have come to that conclusion myself, but thank you anyway.  
**From: Akira 11:53 AM**  
He says you’re welcome.  
**From: Akira 11:56 AM**  
Is everything alright? Did something happen?  
**To: Akira 11:56 AM**  
Yes, everything is fine. I just had an interesting dream is all.

Back to square one. Morgana’s explanation makes sense, but Makoto can’t shake the lingering sense of...something. Something being _off_ about the whole situation. It’s something that she needs to think about more, but focusing on it when she has no clues won’t help anything. Maybe it won’t happen again. Maybe it was just a result of something she ate before she went to bed. Maybe she should get back to work.

She pulls the budgets back, and spends the rest of the day with her mind lost in a sea of numbers and Ann’s voice from her dream replaying itself over and over.

* * *

 

They hand the calling card over the next day, and Makoto stops thinking about it.

The collapse of Futaba’s Palace is unique. It’s emotional, personal on a level Makoto didn’t feel with Kaneshiro’s. It makes sense, given the nature of the cognition they face and Futaba’s own Persona awakening, and it forces Makoto into recounting her own memories more than once. She ends up taking care of Futaba- or at least trying to- for most of the experience, and on the whole it’s emotionally exhausting. Not even touching on the physical aspect of being almost beaten to death and then sprinting down the side of a pyramid. By the time she gets back home, the only thing she feels is tired. All she wants is to sleep.

She’s out the second her head hits the pillow.  
***  
“So, you're back.”

It takes Makoto a second to look around and confirm- yes, she's very much back, in that vaguely familiar setting.

Makoto nods, and Ann smiles back. She’s clad in her thief attire once again.

“Well, I'm glad! You're always welcome here, after all. I thought I had scared you away.”

Why? Why would she think that? Makoto may have been...unsettled at first, but sitting here now doesn't seem so bad. If anything, she’s been waiting for this since the last time.

“You don't have to be scared. It's normal for girls to think like this, right?”

That- Makoto doesn't respond. Maybe it's normal for other girls. It certainly isn't her idea of normal.

“Hey,” Ann says, and Makoto notes that her thief attire has transformed into her standard casual fare, somehow. “I'm here, okay?”

Ann sits next to her on the couch, and Makoto remembers in a flash the last time- all skin and hands and nakedness. Embarrassment flares in her as she pats at her chest and looks down.

It's not the skin she expects. Instead, its soft fabric, clean and scented with a mild hint of perfume. It feels like nothing she owns, but she knows where she's seen it before, and it's not on herself.

Ann doesn't seem bothered by this. Instead, she pulls Makoto into her arms.

“Just relax, okay? You're safe here.”

There's too much happening at once- Ann’s arms around her, stronger than Makoto gives them credit for. The softness of her chest, rising and falling to the tune of her breaths as Makoto’s head rests against it.

She has no expectations and sets no demands. She's just there, holding her, and Makoto lets her guard down.

She drifts off to sleep.

***  
When see wakes up, she's very much alone, warm and uncomfortable in her own bed.

She runs a palm over her chest- but there's nothing there but her own sleepwear. She sighs.

It's Sunday- there's still over a week until Medjed’s planned attack, and they can do nothing until Futaba wakes up. Makoto can spare a few minutes to digest what she saw, though it leaves her somehow even more unsettled than the last time.

* * *

  
It happens almost every night after that.

While Ann is a constant, the events that occur in the dreams change- sometimes it's talking, other times it seems like they just exist next to each other. There's also dreams where they….kiss, and do other things. Those are the days she doesn't contact anyone to spend time together, or suggest they go into Mementos.

She tries not to dwell on it, but she's also spent almost all her free time on research- there's not much else to do while Futaba is still asleep. She finished her student council duties within the first few days of the break. Her homework was done on night one. She should study for entrance exams, but she can't seem to attempt a math problem without her thoughts rushing back to Dream Ann’s arms around her, Dream Ann’s lips on hers, Dream Ann pulling her in with her thighs-

Makoto slams the book in front of her shut, the table underneath squeaking from the sudden movement. It wasn't any good anyway- Freud’s psychoanalytical theory was always tinged in libido and his own weird inadequacies. It certainly doesn't apply to her situation.

She needs a break. Or at least a change of scenery. She pulls out her phone.

**To: Akira 2:09 PM**  
Are you busy at the moment?  
**From: Akira 2:12 PM**  
Hanging out with Yusuke, why?  
**To: Akira 2:12 PM**  
Oh, never mind then. You're busy.  
**From: Akira 2:15 PM**  
Nah, he's been over like seven times this break. We can talk.  
**To: Akira 2:15 PM**  
You shouldn't be rude to a guest  
I was thinking about stopping by.  
**From: Akira: 2:17 pm**  
He's not a guest, he’s Yusuke. He’ll be back again I'm sure. Stop over, if you want. I'll be seeing him off soon anyway.  
**To: Akira 2:17 pm**  
If that's alright with you, I'll stop by once I finish up at school. Thank you  
**From: Akira 2:21 PM**  
Np np

Makoto sets her phone down. What does 'NP' mean? She doesn't know, but figuring it out isn't one of her priorities at the moment.

The tower of library books she'd pulled out that morning would need to be returned. Makoto sighs-medical dictionary after medical dictionary after psychological analysis and she had found nothing, nothing that could explain with concrete, undeniable detail what these dreams mean.

She pulls the top book out again, and flips to the section titled _On Dreaming and the Human Mind at Rest_. It's a lot of medical talk-neurons and REM cycles and the like, but there is one bit she skims to.

_Theories on Dreaming and Suppressed Desires_ , it says. Makoto takes a deep breath, before she reads.

_Some psychologists theorize that the content of dreams may reveal truths that the dreamer is unaware of, and that dreams themselves are the acts of the subconscious to draw attention to these truths. Frequently used examples of this include dreams about being chased, indicating that the dreamer is anxious or stressed, as well as dreams about romance, which often are read as a sign of the dreamer’s attractions and drives, especially when the dreams are of a sexual nature-_

Makoto closes the book. A whole day spent researching, and nothing to show for it. Absolutely nothing at all. She'd better head to LeBlanc.

* * *

 

Akira slides a cup of coffee in front of her. It’s too late in the day to be consuming so much caffeine. Surely it’ll ruin her sleep cycle.

Though, maybe it will ruin her dream cycle as well. She takes a sip.

“Thank you for this, Akira-kun. It’s very good.”

He nods, “You’re welcome. I made it exactly how I was taught.”

“Damn right.” Sojiro says from the behind the cash register. “I’m gonna leave you kids be- you can lock up once you’re finished.”

He shoots Akira a look and heads out the door. Makoto is glad that he’s considerate. Then again, it’s not like there’s any other customers in Leblanc. He probably thinks-

Well, who knows what he thinks.

“He probably thinks this is a date.”

“Oh.”

“It isn’t, by the way. Unless you want it to be.” Akira says, voice more monotone than usual.

“I don’t- that’s not- no.”

“That’s what I figured.” he says, untying the apron from around his waist and tossing it somewhere behind the counter. “C’mon, let’s sit in one of the booths. It’ll be easier to talk that way.”

She follows him to one of the nearby booths, though she doesn't remember saying she came over for conversation. It must have been implied. She’s not sure how good of a conversational partner she’ll manage to be, though. Not when her mind’s like this. Not that Akira needs to know that.

“So, what's going on? You've been kind of...distracted this break.” Oh.

“There's- it’s nothing.”

“You don't have to keep secrets from me, you know. You're a bad liar.”

Makoto sinks into the booth a little more. It wasn't a _lie-_ in the scope of things this issue isn't even worth talking about. Not when they still have MedJed to deal with.

“It’s really unimportant,” She doubles down, because what’s a better plan when you’re caught not telling a full truth, “I’ve just had some problems sleeping.”

“Uhhuh.” Akira says, and sips his coffee. “I can’t really blame you. It’s a stressful time.”

Makoto hums in agreement, keeping her hands around her cup. It’s just hot enough to be a bit uncomfortable.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Hm?” Makoto looks up at him. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“Once,” He says, “I dreamt that Yusuke died in a mudslide. I woke up crying.”

“That’s…” How does Makoto word this so she doesn’t sound rude? “...Unique?” No, that was rude. Damn it.

Akira nods, stoic, “It was a very emotional time for me. But when I saw Yusuke next, he was fine. He even found my overprotectiveness kind of endearing after that. It all worked out, in the end.”

“Uh-huh.” This is not why she came to LeBlanc. She doesn’t even remember why she came to LeBlanc. “Thank you for confiding in me…?”

“You’re welcome.” Akira replies, and indulges in his coffee once more. He doesn’t offer a follow-up.

“Is- was there a point to you telling me that, or?”

“What, am I not allowed to share my secrets with a friend?”

“It’s- it’s not that, I just-”

Akira shakes his head, his laugh light, breathy. Makoto might not have even caught it if she weren’t paying attention. “I’m just messing with you- not about the dream though. That did happen.”

Makoto brings the coffee to her lips, blows the steam coming from it as though it would actually lower it’s temperature. When she drinks it, it stings.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that sometimes, dreams are just dreams. They just are what they are.”

Warm, her face is warm, it must be from the steam.

“But sometimes I think they can tell us things about ourselves. That happened shortly after we faced Madarame- I don’t think it’s a jump to say that seeing the pain that caused Yusuke subconsciously made me want to protect him more.”

She nods. It sets her head spinning- why is that happening? The caffeine. Right. It’s too late in the afternoon for it and it’s messing with her.

“I’m not saying that your dreams are telling you something, but if they’re bothering you this much, I would guess that they are.”

“How did you-”

“Know you were having weird dreams?” Akira smirks, the cat catching the canary. “I mean, you did text me about them.”

“I- That text was for Morgana’s eyes only!”

“Yes, and I’m sure he would have responded eloquently with his opposable thumbs.”

“I- Um.” God, she was embarrassing. She hadn’t even said anything revealing in that chat, and nothing about the content of her dreams- why is she so bothered about this? It’s certainly not that big of a deal-

“I won’t ask what you dreamt about, but-”

“Morgana!”

“H-Huh?” Akira stutters out, and leans back a bit further in the booth. “Him?”

“No! I mean, yes- I mean- no,” Makoto sets her coffee cup down, using her freed hands to rub at her temples, “I just meant to ask where he is.”

“...He’s checking in on Futaba.” Akira answers, and after a pause, leans in a little again. “This dream thing is really getting to you, huh?”

Makoto lets her elbows slide so she’s face down against the table because really, what’s one more embarrassing thing on top of this trainwreck. “Yes.”

_Hm_ , Akira hums, and she hears the scrape of ceramic against the tabletop. When she looks up, Akira is at her eye level and closer than before.

“I think,” he starts, his voice quiet, “that it’s not just a dream that’s getting to you. And I think you know that, too”

Makoto sinks back against her seat, and whimpers, quietly. She knows this feeling all too well, and even though it’s frequently for the best, the end of denial still feels like a lot like a loss. She’s never been able to identify what, exactly, she’s losing- her battle with herself, or the time wasted wrestling with something so obvious.

* * *

  
Acceptance comes with their next trip to Mementos.

There are only two more days before Medjed’s planned attack, and with Futaba still asleep, Joker has decided that they need all the training they can get. Makoto can appreciate the mindset, and if she’s completely honest with herself, the energy exerted in combat helps take her mind off of the distractions she’s been borderline obsessing over.

It doesn’t mean the distractions are gone, but at least there’s an outlet for her pent up emotions when she gets stuck in the thought cycles she falls into.

Thought cycles which happen more and more frequently when the subject of said thoughts is seated next to her as Morgana rumbles across and over subway tracks and Shadows.

The truth, as Makoto's accepted it: she has feelings for Ann. They are of a romantic variety. She wants to get to know her more and, maybe, someday, hold her hand. The thought itself sends a wave of heat to her cheeks, prompting the voice next to her to ask if she’s okay and all she can manage is a muttered _yes, I’m fine_ and start the whole cycle over again.

Despite that, she likes to think she’s being subtle about her feelings- in general, she focuses her gaze out the window to the scenery of Mementos. It’s not very interesting, but it’s better than staring, and she only spares Ann a few side glances when she starts or contributes to whatever conversations pop-up.

“Queen?” Makoto turns at Yusuke’s voice, as he sits at the window opposite Makoto, with Ann between, “Are you feeling well? You seem to be more quiet than usual today.”

“I’m- I’m fine.” She says, and quickly turns back towards the window when Ann’s eyes meet hers.

There’s a pause where the only sound in the van is the roaring- purring?- of the engine, and it’s Ann who breaks it. “Anyways, like I was saying- this whip, this look...I just can’t get used to it.”

Makoto’s first instinct is to stay quiet, but her second instinct pleasantly reminds her that her silence has made things uncomfortable for everyone, including Ann, and her mouth opens and before she even thinks about it words spill out-

“I think it suits you well,” _recover, recover, red alert, you need to say something else or everyone will know_ , “P-perhaps these outfits reflect our true nature.”

The door handle is right below her arm. They’re going fast enough- surely if she opens it, she’ll die from the impact with the ground.

“Hm.” She hears Ann say. She does not turn to her. “Maybe you’re right. What does that say about your true nature, then?”

“I-” Makoto squeaks out, “I don’t know.”

She feels a hand on her thigh, and it causes her brain to short circuit and replay not-real images, the echo of touches that never happened. “Relax, I’m just teasing you, okay?”

And now Makoto does turn to her. Ann’s smiling. She’s practically radiant, and Makoto’s overthinking everything again. Their talk of outfits is quickly forgotten and Makoto decides, quietly and to herself, that it doesn’t matter what Ann wears, in the Metaverse or out- as long as she’s smiling, it suits her.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a Mementos exchange between Makoto and Ann where Makoto says her outfit suits her, which is pretty gay, if you ask me.


End file.
